C94 R18 Warriors In The Making

The room was filled with the sounds of our heavy breathing, the lingering scent of sweat and arousal hanging in the air.

As we lay there, I couldn't help but glance over at Yin, Catherine and Morgana, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and desire as they watched us, their own bodies reflecting the heat of the moment.

"Who's next for round two?"

I asked, my voice low and teasing, already anticipating the next round of passion that would unfold in this intimate setting.

The night was far from over, and I could feel the electricity crackling in the air, ready to ignite once more.

...

Yin, Yang, Catherine, and Morgana covered In palm and grip marks and hickeys limped through the dimly lit barracks hallway their nether regions feeling as If they were on fire, their oversized black short-sleeved T-shirts barely covering the evidence of a night that had gone on far too long while using the ships walls as support.

Their legs ached, their bodies worn, and every step they took felt heavier than the last.

The hallway was a chaotic mess, empty bottles, cigarette butts, scattered pieces of clothing, and even the occasional pair of underwear lined the floor like some kind of battlefield after a hard-fought war.

Occasionally, they stepped over a recruit passed out in the middle of the corridor, some snoring loudly while others lay in puddles of their own vomit, dead to the world.

The pungent stench of alcohol and sweat clung to the air, mingling with the sharp scent of cigarettes and vomit.

The lights flickered intermittently as the four women trudged forward, their eyes half-lidded from exhaustion.

Yang rubbed the back of her neck, wincing as she stretched her sore muscles.

"I don't think I've ever felt this sore in my life."

Yin gave a tired laugh, her hand brushing her tousled black hair out of her face.

"Welcome to the club. That man is a machine."

"'Machine' might be an understatement,"

Morgana grumbled, her voice hoarse as she held her side.

"I feel like I went through boot camp all over again."

Catherine limped beside them, her usually sharp wit dulled by sheer fatigue.

"Next time someone suggests revenge, remind me to sit that one out."

They finally reached their room, the door sliding open with a soft hiss.

Inside, several of the female recruits were either sprawled out across their bunks or lying on the floor beside male recruits, most of them dead drunk and snoring loudly.

A few were awake, rubbing their temples and groaning from the onset of what would surely be a brutal hangover.

One of the awake female recruits, her head propped up by a pillow, lazily lifted her eyes to the four women limping inside.

"Well, well someone had a wild night,"

She muttered, a half-smile playing on her lips.

"Who was it?"

The women exchanged tired glances, not wanting to relive the details just yet.

They only grumbled in response, too sore and exhausted to form a coherent answer and the headache that was threatening to split their heads open wasn't helping at all.

Another recruit, barely awake, stretched out on her bunk and blinked at them groggily. Her voice was thick with sleep as she lazily said,

"I saw you leave with the pack's alpha."

The room fell into an instant hush. Those who were awake looked up in shock, their hangovers momentarily forgotten as the realization settled in.

The gasps that followed were loud, almost exaggerated, as every eye in the room turned to stare at the four of them.

"Wait, wait, wait… Which one of you was it?"

Another recruit asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

Yin sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"Does it really matter right now? We just want to crash."

But the recruits weren't going to let it slide. The half-awake women exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a smirk curling on her lips, leaned forward.

"It was all of you, wasn't it?"

She whispered in amusement only for It to turn Into shock after seeing the four women flinch on the spot.

"No f*cking way..."

The female recruit muttered In disbelief as she looked at the four women that looked like they had been run over by a truck.

The other recruits gasped again, their eyes widening in disbelief.

"No f*cking way!"

One of them exclaimed.

"You're telling me he singlehandedly left all four of you in that sorry state?"

Catherine, too tired to care, flopped down onto her bunk and pulled the covers over her head.

"Can we not talk about it?"

Morgana muttered something incoherent before crawling into her bunk, her face buried in the pillow.

Yin and Yang were the last to climb into bed, their limbs feeling like dead weight as they collapsed onto the mattresses.

One of the recruits, still shocked by the revelation, shook her head in disbelief.

"I don't know whether to be impressed or terrified."

Yin, her voice muffled by the pillow, groaned.

"Both."

As the lights dimmed, the room finally grew quiet again.

The sounds of deep, heavy breathing filled the air as the recruits began to drift off to sleep, though the whispers of disbelief still lingered in the air.

The four women, despite the pain, couldn't help but share a brief, exhausted smile, they hated to admit It but It was the best f*cking s*x of their lives.

...

2 months and one week later at the edge of Med Karash systems gravity well.

Yin, Yang, Catherine, and Morgana sat on the sidelines of the gym's tatami, surrounded by other recruits from room 314.

The atmosphere was tense but charged with energy as they watched Dracula single-handedly pummel forty male recruits into the ground, one after the other.

Each move was precise, brutal, and efficient, showcasing the result of a lifetime of relentless combat training.

His much larger form compared to average male moved with the kind of grace that should've been impossible for someone of his size, and yet, every swing, every strike, landed with devastating force.

The male recruits from the room in front of them were trying their best, but it was like watching ants throw themselves against a mountain.

One by one, they crumpled to the floor, groaning in pain.

Yin winced as one particularly large guy compared to his battlebrothers but still came short compared to Dracula went down with a heavy thud, his breath knocked out of him.

"I can't believe he's still going,"

Yang muttered, crossing her arms.

"This makes forty now. Doesn't he ever get tired?"

Morgana scoffed, her eyes tracking Dracula's every movement.

"We know better than anyone he's not human. That guy's a g*ddamn machine. Remember those first couple of weeks of PT after our oath? I thought I was going to die."

Catherine leaned back, her eyes half-closed as if she was still processing everything that had happened in the past two months.

"No kidding. The combat classes, grenade and firearm training, more PT, then even more PT. It's been endless. I'm surprised any of us are still standing."

The truth was, the past few months had been nothing short of grueling.

Combat training had taken on new dimensions, everything from learning about grenade types, how to use them in live combat, close-quarters combat, chain, squad, platoon, company, and even battalion, brigade, division level field tactics, and brutal weapon drills.

And just when they thought they'd adjusted, there was always more PT waiting for them at the end of the day.

As a result, their once loose-fitting uniforms had become a perfect fit.

They'd all built muscle, endurance, and grit from the relentless training.

But the real change had been in their mentality, survival was no longer a question, it was an expectation.

Yang leaned back, shaking her head as she watched Dracula lay out another recruit with a bone crunching slam.